


This Winter's Day

by QuickedWeen



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Advent, Alternate Universe - Regency, But also, Christmas, Christmas Fluff, Christmas Party, Fever, Fluff, Implied Smut, Nobility, Regency, Regency Romance, Smut, Stablemaster Louis, Viscount Harry, it's halfway in between
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-08
Updated: 2018-01-08
Packaged: 2019-02-19 18:34:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,871
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13129587
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/QuickedWeen/pseuds/QuickedWeen
Summary: Dear Mr. Harry Edward Styles,We regret to inform you of the passing of your cousin Lord Edward William Seaward, the Viscount Merston. Please contact us at your earliest convenience.Sincerely,Messrs. Pratt, Rutherford, and SpauldingLouis is Harry's stablemaster, and when he falls ill and his mother turns to Harry to help her try and find someone he can settle down with, it's only natural that Harry suggests himself.





	This Winter's Day

**Author's Note:**

  * For [LaDiDah](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LaDiDah/gifts).



> Hello darling! I hope you enjoy this! It's sort of like your prompt?
> 
> Historical note: THIS IS NOT ACCURATE. I totally ignored gender roles and period typical homophobia. Because I said so. I did my best to make sure all of the little day to day things reflected the time in which it's set, but the rest of it - mostly how Harry interacts with his servants - is horribly inaccurate. Because Harry is (and would be irl) the worst noble because he doesn't treat servants like servants he treats them like family.

**JUNE 1830**

**_Holmes Chapel, Cheshire_ **

_Dear Mr. Harry Edward Styles,_

_We regret to inform you of the passing of your cousin Lord Edward William Seaward, the Viscount Merston. Please contact us at your earliest convenience._

_Sincerely,_

_Messrs. Pratt, Rutherford, and Spaulding_

 

**DECEMBER 1830**

_**Merston, South Yorkshire** _

 

**First Sunday of Advent**

“ _Hail to the Lord's anointed_!” Harry sang loudly to begin the ritual of Advent Sunday. This particular Sunday was his favorite of the whole year. Advent Sunday was the first of the season, and he could barely contain himself.

It helped that he had such rowdy companions with him. He smiled to himself as he listened to Daisy Tomlinson sing loudly enough to drown out the more cautious tones of her older sister Felicite.

He had personally invited the entire Tomlinson clan up into his pew with him today. Per tradition, the slightly more raised pews off to the side of the small chapel were reserved for the local gentry. Which happened to be Harry, and Harry alone.

Six months prior, Harry had received word of the death of a cousin that he had never known. According to his mother, that cousin, Edward, was a few generations removed from a split in the family. She and Edward exchanged letters every year or so to keep in touch, and they were cordial letters, but brief.

It had been Edward who tracked Anne down originally, insisting that the two branches of the family be at least vaguely aware of each other, but nothing more than that had come of the connection. Until the letter from his solicitors explaining that Harry was the new Viscount as Edward had no children.

Harry’s mother was titled through her second marriage. Robin Twist, her husband, was the Baron Waldegrave and because Robin had no children of his own either, Harry’s older sister Gemma would inherit the barony when he passed.

Harry had been content with the situation as it had been. He wouldn’t inherit, but he also wouldn’t face the pressures of being titled. Being a twenty five year old, unmarried, untitled man meant independence, and he had it in spades.

It was then with mixed feelings that he accepted his cousin’s lineage. He and his family packed up his belongings, and they all made the journey with him to the tiny hamlet of Merston in South Yorkshire. Harry had only ever been to the St. Leger at Doncaster once before when an old school friend of his had a pony in the race. He had thoroughly enjoyed his visit at the time, but it had not exactly been an all encompassing view of the region.

The town itself - Merston - was small and absolutely wonderful. The scenery was picturesque, it was peaceful, and the residents had been incredibly welcoming. The warm reception upon arrival had washed away all of Harry’s doubts. While Harry was sure there were many viscounts who spent their time in London for the Season and such, he didn’t want to be one of those people. If he was to hold the noble seat, then hold it he shall.

He was still a little unclear as to why a village of approximately six hundred people warranted a Viscountcy, but according to local legend it had been a much more simple baronetcy and then someone had done something particularly heroic in the Crusades once upon a time. The story grew murkier with every retelling.

The title had come with a manor, as most titles do, and while it was grand for the surrounding area, it wasn’t so showy and large that Harry was uncomfortable. He was actually quite pleased with it. Living in Holmes Chapel, he had reached the age of bachelorhood and had been preparing himself to find a home of his own anyway, so to have one thrust upon him was all rather convenient.

His mother had insisted on helping him arrange his household and coordinate the hiring of new servants. She was much more well versed in that, having run his father’s and then stepfather’s households single-handedly for many years, so Harry had acquiesced. He had only his valet Niall who was one of his best friends growing up and had been with Harry since they were of schooling age.

Between his mother and Niall, Harry was well fussed over.

When he set about meeting everyone in the village, one of the first people to come visit him was the local schoolteacher a Mrs. Johannah Deakin. She had an incredibly warm countenance and Harry quickly learned that she was one of the town’s most respected residents. She had seven children of her own, and almost all of them were still nearby in some capacity; her younger children were at home, and her eldest son had rented his own rooms in town.

Mrs. Deakin and his mother banded together immediately upon making each other's acquaintance, and Harry soon found that between his mother, Niall, and now Mrs. Deakin, he was _very_ well fussed over.

Anne had immediately sought Mrs. Deakin’s advice on who to hire to flush out Harry’s new household staff. Many of the older staff members had been with the family for quite a long time, and most had chosen the generous retirement that Harry had offered them as they had reached the end of their more able-bodied years. All agreed to stay on long enough to train the new staff, though, for which Harry and his mother were eternally grateful.

As a result, Mrs. Deakin’s oldest daughter Miss Charlotte Tomlinson, twenty one years of age, was his new housekeeper and her sixteen year old twins Daisy and Phoebe were two of his maids. They had a good friend of the family named Thomas who became his newest groom, and then there was Louis.

Louis Tomlinson, Mrs. Deakin’s eldest son.

Before Harry came to town, Louis had been renting rooms in Merston proper, and had been traveling back and forth every day to work in the stables at the race course in Doncaster. He was an extremely proficient manager of the stables there, but had given up his post in order to come be Harry’s stable master and gamekeeper extraordinaire.

It wasn’t until later that Harry learned Louis had been strong-armed by his mother into accepting the position in Harry’s household as she was intent on keeping him closer to home.

Harry snuck a glance out of the corner of his eye to where Louis was sitting at the end of the pew. There were only a few bodies between them, but it felt like Louis was leagues away.

The pews were hard and wooden, but the former Viscountess had embroidered beautiful cushions backed with a deep burgundy velvet to line the two benches. His first few Sundays in town had been lovely as he had his family to sit with and detract from the special attention when he was introduced to the congregation for the first time by the vicar.

Mrs. Deakin had told him afterwards that the attendance had been twice again what it normally was because everyone in town had wanted to catch a glimpse of him and his family.

After a month in Merston, and his mother’s declaration that he was dutifully settled, Harry’s family had to return to Holmes Chapel. His first Sunday in the pew alone had been daunting and slightly awkward. The novelty had worn off of his arrival, to be sure, but he was still sitting in a place of prominence by himself for the entire service. The pews were meant to allow for the Viscount, their spouse, and their children and grandchildren, but Harry didn’t have any of that.

The next Sunday he had invited Mrs. Deakin, her husband, and all of her children to join him and he had been much happier and more relaxed. Between the nine of them, they had rearranged themselves numerous ways over the last few months, but Louis had always managed to fix it so that there was at least one person between Harry and himself at all times. Harry would have been impressed if he hadn’t been a little hurt by the realization that Louis was doing it on purpose.

Louis resented him, that much was clear, but Harry wasn’t sure if it was for his own transgressions, or because Louis’ mother had forced him into the position, or if it was because Harry had inherited this title and money. There were many offenses stacked up against Harry in that regard, but every time he tried to fix it, or he tried to have a more personal conversation with Louis, the other man managed to evade him.

The underlying problem was that Harry was in love with Louis. Harry was doomed to be irrevocably in love with someone who he barely spoke to beyond general household business.

The hymn came to an end and Harry went to sit down with the rest of the congregation,  letting his breath leave him in a slight whoosh. It was cathartic, if brief.

When they were on the grounds of his estate, Harry liked to believe his staring wasn’t quite as obvious. Niall was always quick to tease him about it though, so in all likelihood, Harry was delusional.

Harry would never forgive himself if he made Louis feel uncomfortable. Aside from on a personal level, he would hate to lose Louis as a member of his household. Louis was an exceptional stable master and gamekeeper. He cared for the horses as though they were his own children, often times he was the first one awake, and the last one to leave the stables, snuffing out the lanterns as he left for the day.

The vicar gave the benediction, ending the service, and the residents of his pew all began to gather their gloves and wraps. The church was quite drafty so many of them had kept their coats and hats on during the service.

When they were all outside, Mrs. Deakin and her husband loaded up her cart and pony with the youngest siblings while Lottie and Louis climbed into Harry’s personal carriage. Many in London, or even in Cheshire, would have turned their noses up at his riding with his servants, but Harry thought that was ridiculous.

Daisy and Phoebe were still too young, but Lottie and Louis lived at the estate in the servants quarters. The village didn’t have many residents his own age, Lottie and Louis had become his friends, and they were all going to the same place. It was silly for him to leave them to ride out in the cold for the sake of appearances.

The ride back to the estate was uneventful, Lottie kept the conversation up almost entirely by herself. Tommy, had been left behind to take care of the stables while they were in church, and Sunday was Louis’ day off, but none of that stopped him from making a hasty escape to the outer building as soon as they rounded the drive in front of the manor. Lottie followed him with a suspiciously eager smile on her face, and Harry spared a thought for poor Tommy who was as yet still slightly oblivious to Lottie’s intentions.

Another Sunday and still not much conversation to be had from Louis. Harry sighed dejectedly and made his way to the front door where Niall was waiting for him.

Tucked away in the master bedroom, Niall helped Harry remove his Sunday best, and left him to change into his much more relaxed old cotton breeches and shirt. Foregoing another waistcoat and his boots, Harry slid his feet into his house slippers and padded down the stairs to the library. He looked ridiculous to be sure, but he wasn’t expecting any callers, so there was no one to pay him any mind in his even less than informal dress.

The library was his favorite part of the house. He had loved the library at his stepfather’s estate, but nothing compared to being surrounded by his own collection of books. There was a large plush armchair tucked away in the very back corner near the fireplace that he liked to curl up in to read his poetry books.

His professors at Oxford were most likely rolling in their graves. Most of them were alive, so the metaphor was lost, but Harry was sure they could feel the corruption and rotting of his mind even still.

❉ ❉ ❉

Louis avoided a rap across the knuckles he was sure to get from the cook’s villainous wooden spoon as he swiped a piping hot bun straight from the oven.

With a cheeky grin he tossed the pastry back and forth skillfully between his fingers until it had cooled enough for him to pop it in his mouth as he made his way towards the stairwell that would take him to his rooms.

“You get back here with that, Louis Tomlinson!” he heard the cook’s warbled voice call over the ambient noise of the kitchen’s Sunday roast preparations.

The new viscount had changed much since he had taken over Merston Hall. He had charmed all of the staff immediately, but even his sunny disposition could not thaw the cook’s stringent stance on pastry thievery.

Louis climbed the back stairs as quickly as he could. He needed to consult the veterinary manuals in the library before he turned around and rode to his mother’s home for supper. Sunday supper was considered a family meal, but slowly over the past few months, Lottie had begun taking her supper at the main house. Louis was sure it had absolutely nothing to do with his groom Tommy. Nothing whatsoever.

Har- the new viscount did not like to dine alone so he frequently asked his most prominent servants to take Sunday supper with him. Niall, his valet, Liam, his butler who had just taken the position recently, and Tommy and Lottie. Normally a groom wouldn’t be considered a prominent servant, but Louis suspected it was for Lottie’s benefit. The viscount also invited Louis to dine with him. Every Sunday. And every Sunday, Louis declined, armed with the excuse of seeing his mother.

His mother was ecstatic that Louis had begun visiting every Sunday, whereas before he began working at Merston Hall, his attendance was sporadic at best.

It was absolutely not avoidance. It wasn’t.

He nodded firmly to himself in agreement as he changed out of his church clothes into his riding clothes. After he checked in on the mare, he would be riding straight to his mother’s.

Opening the door to his room again, Louis hummed a hymn from the service as he bounded down the servant’s stairs to the library. There was a book on veterinary medicine that he knew Har- the viscount had in his collection that Louis wanted to look through. One of his mares was heavily pregnant, and this was the first foal that would be born under his direction. He had witnessed and participated in many births before in his position at the racecourse, but this was the first one that he would manage entirely on his own.

He remembered coming across the recipe for a tonic that would ease some of the mare’s pain and help relax her muscles. This particular mare named Allegria was older and might have more difficulty even though she had given birth successfully before.

Lost in his own thoughts, Louis entered the library from the hidden doorway in the back and was assaulted by a view of the viscount.

The man was curled up in his favorite chair, fast asleep, with the firelight dancing on his skin. A woven blanket was draped across his legs but Louis could still see his torso, clad only in a light cotton shirt that was partly unbuttoned showing off the column of his tanned throat. Louis eyed the bit of carpet in front of the chair and saw his calfskin house slippers sitting there as well.

Honestly, Louis needed to have a word with Niall. He was derelict in his duties as a valet if he thought it was acceptable to let the viscount roam around in such a state of undress. In his private residence.

Louis whimpered quietly to himself as he maintained his distance from his sleeping employer and snuck along the far wall to the section he was looking for.

“Hello?” A gravelly voice mumbled from the back corner. Louis was hidden well enough that he could pretend he wasn’t there and continue sneaking, but he was rather short on time, and he needed to finish his business as quickly as possible.

Bracing himself, he poked his out from behind one of the stacks. “Hello, sir,” he said with a wave.

“Sir? Louis, how many times have I told you to call me Harry?”

Har- the viscount stretched his arms above his head and yawned as Louis looked on, helpless.

“Erm. Quite a few.” Familiarity had never been a problem for him before Harry. The viscount. But Louis had never been quite so drawn to someone above his station before, someone so wildly inappropriate for him to be drawn to.

Harry looked at him wide eyed as though he had not expected Louis to answer him truthfully and wasn’t sure how to respond. “Yes. Well.” The response never came, and the moment hung awkwardly between them.

“Right,” Louis said. “I’ll just find what I need and get out of your way.”

“You’re not in my way,” Harry replied.

Louis wasn’t sure what to say so he turned and picked up the volume he needed. He made his way back toward the door to the servants’ quarters to find some privacy away from Harry when the man in question called out after him; “Is that for Allegria?”

Louis nodded. “Yes, for a tonic.”

“Right,” Harry replied. They were quite the conversationalists.

Without saying anything else, Louis took off for his room.

 

A little less than an hour later, Louis rode up to the front Ravenwood Grange, his family’s household.

He removed his riding gloves and tucked them into his hat as he pushed the front door open, inhaling the familiar smells of his childhood home. The babies, who were six and not quite babies any more, were running around in one of the rooms but Louis couldn’t pinpoint their exact location.

As it was Sunday, he knew his mother would be in the kitchen, but he didn’t smell anything cooking and couldn’t hear the crackling that usually accompanied the larger fire in the hearth. That was odd.

He made his way to the back of the house, greeting Daisy and Phoebe as they ran past him in a flurry of skirts and ribbons.

“Louis, what wonderful timing,” his mother called out with relief. She was holding the younger twins’ winter coats in her hand.

“Are we going somewhere, mother?”

“Yes, back up to Merston Hall. We’ll take the cart and you’ll accompany us,” she said, pushing him out into the hall.

“Merston Hall?” He replied dumbly.

“Of course, darling, Harry invited us to dine with him tonight after church today. Don’t you remember?”

Louis sputtered a bit. No he did not remember. He also grit his teeth at the way Harry’s name just rolled off his mother’s tongue. Lord Styles. His name was Lord Styles, the Viscount Merston, but he let everyone go around calling him Harry. How was Louis supposed to maintain any sort of distance from him at all?

Petulantly defying his hard earned maturity and independence, he begged. “Why can we not dine here? Why are we going back there?”

Instead of the reprimand he had expected, he was met with exhaustion. “Louis, I am truly sorry, I know this is your day off. But, if Harry is so generous as to offer a free meal, we have to take it.”

There was something in her voice that told him the necessity went beyond propriety and politeness, and that struck him.

He lowered his own voice to match the seriousness of her tone, “Is it really that bad?”

His mother’s husband, Daniel Deakin, ran the local post office, and while he did quite well especially at this time of year, it was a lot to feed and clothe six children. Louis didn’t count himself among their number as he had his own means.

They had more money coming in now that the girls were working at Merston Hall, but Felicite wanted to go to school so she could become a governess, and that would cost money. His mother prided herself on making sure her children could do whatever they wanted to, which he had benefited from when she let him apprentice and then work at the stables in Doncaster.

“No, it’s not bad, darling. I promise. But to be spared the cost of a full Sunday roast supper is a blessing.”

Louis nodded and let the conversation drop. After a moment he went to track down the youngest twins and bundle them up to go back out into the cold.

❉ ❉ ❉

Harry smiled to himself as he watched Louis try to mediate an argument between Daisy and Phoebe somewhere further down the table. The supper was excellent, and he was glad that during the Christmas season he had people to share it with that felt like family. In the absence of his own family.

They would be coming to visit eventually but not until Christmas Day, and they would be staying through Twelfth Night.

Niall leaned over, beckoning Harry closer to him. “You’re not fooling anyone.”

Harry blushed and sat back upright very quickly, shushing Niall under his breath.

Lottie got up to help the cook serve the Christmas pudding, even though Harry insisted that she was his guest tonight, when one of the young stable boys burst into the dining room.

Liam, Niall, Louis, and Tommy all stood up at once, but Louis spoke first. “What is it, James?”

“Begging your pardon sirs, ladies,” he nodded to each in turn, “but it’s Allegria, Mr. Tomlinson. I think she’s birthing.”

There was a tense moment of silence as everyone processed the news before the entire dining room sprung into action with Louis at the helm, barking orders. He dispatched everyone to different duties with ease. Lottie to make the tonic he had found the recipe just that afternoon; Daisy and Phoebe to strip linens and boil water to carry out to the stables; Tommy, Niall, and Mr. Deakin to go with him to help get her properly situated.

Soon, it was just Louis, Harry, Mrs. Deakin, and Doris and Ernie left in the dining room. Mrs. Deakin watched Louis with a proud smile on her face.

“Mum, can you go help Lottie? I have to head out to the stables.”

“Oh, darling, but who will watch the twins?” She looked torn between helping Louis and needing to stay behind.

“I’ll watch them,” Harry interrupted, eager to have something to do. He didn’t know much about taking care of horses, but he could absolutely take care of children. He loved children.

Mrs. Deakin tutted at him, “I can’t ask that of you.”

“Don’t be silly, I’m offering,” Harry insisted. “I’ve got some games and drawing supplies in the library. There are plenty of rooms in the house, you all can stay the night.”

Louis smiled at Harry softly. “Fizzy ran off to help Lottie as well, but I’m sure she would be happy to come back and help you get them to bed.”

“Perfect. Send her when you can spare her, but we’ll be fine,” Harry returned his grin.

Mrs. Deakin was shaking her head, “Harry, this is too much.”

“It’s not everyday you can be apart of something so wonderful. If they weren’t here I would be pacing the floor anyway. Please let me help,” he pleaded.

“We want to stay with Harry!” Doris piped up from her chair where she and Ernest had been sitting quietly.

Mrs. Deakin finally nodded, and beckoned them forward. “Now, you do everything Harry says. Is that clear?”

The twins agreed and less than five minutes later, the three of them had extra paper and pencils spread across the carpet of the library cozy in front of the fire.

His cook brought them tea and biscuits and eventually Felicite came to join them and help put the children to bed, as promised.

 

**Second Sunday in Advent**

The mood in Harry’s pew was much more somber on the second Sunday of Advent. Harry kept his gaze fixed on his lap where he was holding Doris’ hand.

The vicar’s voice rang throughout the chapel as he brought even more attention to the dire situation. “And today we pray for those among us who cannot make it to church today. Louis Tomlinson has fallen ill with fever, and his mother Johannah is tending to his care. Please think of him in your prayers this morning.”

Harry’s grip tightened a bit when Doris started to sniffle, and his immeasurable guilt threatened to crush him where he sat.

Their party was without Louis or his mother, that was true.

When Allegria went into labor it lasted for quite awhile, and Louis stayed with her every step of the way. Unfortunately, that meant that he was out in the December chill for the whole night without rest, and he developed an intense fever a few days later.

Tommy had come to Harry straight away when he woke up Thursday morning and Louis had yet to make it to the stables. Together, they went to Louis’ rooms and discovered him there in a state of delirium, unable to get out of bed.

Harry immediately sent for the doctor and Mrs. Deakin. Louis’ mother had stayed with Harry at his insistence over the last few days and was, as the vicar said, tending to his care.

The doctor bled Louis, and told Harry that he was exceedingly optimistic that it would pass. It was a simple fever, and was not contagious. The younger children, Daisy and Phoebe included, had stayed home at Ravenwood, though, just in case.

Harry couldn’t believe the macabre tone his week had taken. The start of the Christmas season had been so lovely, and now Louis was inhibited at Harry’s doing.

When Harry tried to take up that argument with Niall, his valet had struck him on the shoulder and chastised him for being an idiot. He told Harry that Louis was doing what he loved, tending horses, and nothing about it was Harry’s fault. Harry pointed out that it was his horse, and Niall told him that he was a dunce.

But with every minute that Louis lay in bed, Harry’s guilt grew. There was no telling what would happen to Mrs. Deakin if she lost Louis both emotionally and financially. Harry knew that much of their income came from what Louis sent home.

They had never discussed money as it wasn’t proper, but the knowledge that Harry lacked in running a household he made up for with knowledge of running an estate. He didn’t have his own steward, and took care of most of his bookkeeping on his own, so he knew what he was paying Louis and the rest of the members of his family. And he knew what it must take to feed so many children.

His heart went out to Mrs. Deakin, and he was doing anything he could.

After the service, Mr. Deakin took the children home and Harry went back to his estate. When he arrived Niall greeted him with a shake of his head, answering the question Harry had asked him countless times over the past three days. Louis had not woken up, and his fever had not broken.

He didn’t care to disturb Mrs. Deakin, and she usually chased him off anyway, not wanting Harry to catch the fever either, so he went to his study to take a look at the books that he had balanced at least twice already.

Harry was an hour into the pointless exercise when he let his pen fall flat and he brought his hands up to rub at his temples. He was too distracted. This was getting him nowhere.

Maybe he could go out riding, he thought before he looked out and saw the ominous grey clouds hovering over the grounds. Or not. On the bright side, it was cold enough that they would most likely get snow instead of rain.

Liam knocked on the door of his study, and Harry bade him to enter. “Mrs. Deakin to see you,” he said quietly.

“Let her in, of course. Also, bring us some tea, will you Liam?”

Liam nodded before opening the door again, ushering Mrs. Deakin in to the room. Harry came around his desk and led her to one of the arm chairs in front of the fire so they would be more comfortable.

“How does your patient fare?” Harry asked, trying not to sound too eager and failing.

“Well, I think his fever is going down. Slowly, but receding nonetheless,” she said, but she lacked all of her usual sparkle and zest.

Harry breathed a sigh of relief. “That is wonderful news.”

“Yes, I am quite relieved.”

Harry’s concern redoubled at her tone. “Mrs. Deakin-”

She cracked a smile at that, finally. “Please darling, after everything, do call me Johannah at least.”

“Johannah,” Harry nodded, “Forgive me for saying this, but you do not seem as relieved as your words lead me to hope.”

Some of the tension left her as though she were a marionette and her strings had been cut. “You’re right, and I’m sorry Harry but I must be frank with you no matter how inappropriate.”

He gestured that she should go on, “Please.”

“I need to find Louis a spouse.”

Harry’s heartbeat caught in his chest, “What?” he said in disbelief.

“He’s twenty seven, well into marrying age. We’ve earned nothing from his or the girls’ father’s estates. He’s never been sick like this before and it has worried me so.”

Harry sputtered, not sure how to reply. “With all due respect Mrs- Johannah, why are you coming to me with this.” The last thing he wanted to hear about was Louis getting married to someone else.

Her demeanour changed, and she gave him a long and careful look before answering. “Well, you are his employer, and the person with the most noble birth and connections for many miles. I would think you would know of at least a few eligible candidates for him. Maybe an acquaintance from Cheshire? As you know Louis has always lived close to home, but as far as I have been able to tell no man or woman has ever struck his fancy. He hasn’t explicitly said whether he would prefer one or the other, but for the sake of narrowing down the field, and let’s say mother’s intuition, I think we should start our search with the gentlemen.”

Harry was reeling. She wanted to involve him in the search for Louis’ spouse. He could not possibly think of a worse task to be set upon him. Find someone for the one person he so ardently admired? Sit back and watch him marry and start a family? He felt sick to his stomach. Maybe he should take to the sick bed as well, just to avoid the remainder of this conversation.

“Have you consulted with Louis on this matter?” He asked weakly.

“Of course not, darling, he’s still mostly unconscious.”

“Right. Erm. Of course I’ll help,” he replied before he could stop himself.

Johannah’s eyes lit up. “Wonderful!” She clasped her hands together in front of her chest. “Honestly, having him married and taken care of will ease my mind. He worries me so, out alone in the world like he is,” she added a touch too dramatically.

Harry’s suspicions immediately rose. Liam brought their tea, and they finished it over a discussion of everything she was looking for in a spouse for Louis, and Harry grew more and more uncomfortable at every trait listed. “Attractive, caring, kind, financially stable…”

He did his best to nod along and not vomit all over his very expensive oriental carpet.

No sooner had she exited his study to return to Louis’ bedside, when Niall came through the other door that led to the master suite.

“Was that Mrs. Deakin?” Niall asked him, gesturing towards the firmly closed door.

“Yes,” Harry pouted. He still hadn’t returned to his desk from the armchair, so Niall plopped down in the one Johannah had just vacated.

“What’s wrong with you, then?”

“She wants my help,” Harry replied.

“And what, you don’t want to give it? That doesn’t sound like you.”

Harry very maturely stuck his tongue out at him. “She wants me to help her find a spouse for Louis.”

Niall stared at him for a moment before he started cackling. He laughed so hard that he had to grip his stomach, and came close to unseating himself from the chair.

“You’re discharged. I am terminating your employment. Leave,” Harry threatened over the sound of Niall’s laughter. He threw a spare biscuit at him from the tea tray.

Niall wiped tears from his eyes as he righted himself again.

Harry flung his arms about desperately. “How can you laugh, Niall? The man who is quite possibly the love of my life is lying upstairs in his bed, dying, and his mother wants me to marry him off like he’s a medieval princess or something!”

Niall stared at him open-mouthed. “You are such an idiot. Sir.” He only ever called Harry ‘Sir’ when he was being sarcastic.

“What do you mean?”

“Why don’t _you_ marry him?” Niall asked, calmly, as though it was the simplest thing in the world.

“What?” Harry was blown back in disbelief for the second time that afternoon.

“You. Should. Marry. Him. If you love him that much, which I know you do. Say it’s convenience, or something.”

“But he’s-”

“If you’re about to say he’s below your station, stop and think about if that really matters to you. It doesn’t in everything else that you do. It doesn’t at church on Sunday in the eyes of God. It doesn’t to any of the villagers here, certainly. They all love him. The only people who would protest the match would be your mother, or you. Your mother would be beside herself with happiness that you were married. So that leaves you.” Niall added pointedly.

“Of course I don’t care about his station,” Harry retorted.

Niall nodded. “Then marry him.”

“But…” Harry trailed off, trying to form the words that would encompass how he was feeling. “What if he doesn’t want to marry me?”

“Then don’t marry him, and watch him fall in love with someone else. That’s what will happen if you don’t even attempt to woo him,” Niall explained.

Harry’s stomach clenched again at the thought.

“Harry,” Niall continued gently, “I’m not implying that you should force him into anything. I’m merely telling you to think about what you would be giving up if you didn’t at least discuss it with him.”

Niall patted his knee gently, got up, and left the room, leaving Harry alone for the first time in well over an hour. Harry had not moved, but it felt like his whole life had gone through a treacherous upheaval in that short amount of time. And in a way it had.

 

Louis’ fever broke in the wee hours of the morning on Monday. He stayed up in his room in the servants’ quarters under much duress, but insisted on hourly reports from Tommy and the other grooms, to their dismay.

The foal whose birth had set off his illness was doing well. Harry had gone to check on him personally. He was as yet unnamed, because Harry wanted to leave that honour for Louis.

By Wednesday, Harry was growing uncomfortable. He had barely slept over the last few days, tossing and turning thinking about what Niall had said to him. He absolutely wanted to marry Louis, but not if he felt as though Louis was being forced into it. There was always the possibility Louis would feel that way, much the same way Harry knew that Louis’ mother had forced him into taking the job on Harry’s estate.

If he proposed and Louis declined, there was also the possibility that Louis would ignore and avoid him even more than he already did. Or worse, quit. Which would upset his family’s financial stability, making the situation even more dire. Not that he thought Mrs. Deakin’s situation was dire at all, but he guessed that money was a concern.

No matter. He had weighed all of the options, including his own heart ache if he were to watch Louis wed someone else, and he had to do it. He had to at least have the discussion with Louis, because it felt as though much of the current discussion about him was taking place without his actual input, and that wouldn’t do.

 

When he received word from Niall that Louis was up and about in the stables, Harry sent for the man in question. He ordered tea for his small informal parlor that was much more comfortable than the real one where he took callers, hoping that it would make Louis feel more at ease as well.

Liam announced Louis’ presence and led him into the room, closing the door behind him with a thud. It wasn’t entirely proper for them, both cemented in their bachelor status, to be in a room together behind a closed door, but Harry also didn’t want to run the risk of someone barging in on what was sure to be a private discussion.

“Louis, hello. How are you feeling?” Harry asked as he indicated the settee next to his chair.

“Much better, thank you, Sir. Still a bit weak, but nothing a few good meals won’t fix,” Louis smiled at him lightly. He perceived Harry with a rather guarded expression, and Harry didn’t blame him. When they had estate business to discuss, they usually discussed it in Harry’s study or out in the stables themselves.

“Please, Louis. Call me Harry.” He tried to inject as much of a lighthearted tone as he could, especially given the discussion they were about to have.

“I know, I’m sorry,” Louis replied quietly.

Harry smiled widely in return to put him at ease. “That’s alright.” He cleared his throat. “Louis. Your mother came to me while you were ill.”

“Oh God,” Louis groaned.

Harry rushed to reassure him. “No, it was nothing bad. She just… she would like to see you settled soon.”

“I cannot believe she had this discussion with _you_.” Louis’ emphasis on the fact that the conversation was with Harry was a little off-putting, but he understood the disdain towards a meddlesome mother, so he tried not to be hurt by it.

Harry began again; “She was hoping that my connections would prove fruitful in finding someone suitable for you.” Louis had gone silent, so Harry continued with his somewhat practiced speech. “While I do know a few suitable candidates, I couldn’t help but worry that any potential match could possibly take you far from home and your sisters, and I knew you wouldn’t like that.”

Harry was rushing through his speech now, but found himself unable to stop once he had begun. “And while there are a few other suitable matches in town, I wouldn’t want to sound vain, but I myself would come with a fair amount of both money and connection. If you were to… marry… me.” He trailed off weakly, glancing up at Louis’ face and seeing his rather impassive expression.

Louis turned his own gaze down to his lap where his hands were clasped tightly, but he didn’t answer. They sat there in silence for awhile, as Harry listened to the ticking of the grandfather clock, praying that the mechanism would hit the hour and just shoot him where he stood.

All of his worst nightmares had come to fruition, Louis was never going to speak to him again, he would never know what it was like to look upon him in affection and see that affection returned. He would need a new stable master. And housekeeper, and maids, and groom. Surely Louis’ family would never want to work for Harry ever again. He would find them good positions at one of the estates in the next town over.

“Yes,” Louis voice was so weak it was almost lost, and Harry thought he was hearing things.

“What?” He said, dumbly.

Louis looked up at him and met his gaze defiantly. “If you are asking me to marry you, I would like to accept.”

“Oh. Oh! Erm. That’s wonderful. Thank you,” Harry replied, still numb with shock.

Louis nodded. “Would you like to discuss the logistics now?”

“Logistics?” Louis was talking about their engagement as though it was a business transaction. And while the whole point of Harry’s marriage offer was so that Louis’ family would have financial stability, it did sting a bit that Louis was making it clear that he was after the money within a breath of accepting the proposal.

“Yes, well. What shall we tell people? The rest of the staff? I live in the servants quarters now, but then I won’t and they will begin having to treat me like a superior.” Louis actually looked quite sheepish.

“Because everyone does so well treating me like one?” Harry quipped without thinking. This was a serious discussion. Not a time for jokes.

Unfortunately, the butterflies that erupted in his stomach when Louis let out a little giggle didn’t agree.

Louis put a hand to his abdomen, and it looked like a nervous tic, a gesture Harry had never seen before. Something in his chest warmed at the thought. “When would you like to hold the ceremony.”

“Sunday,” Harry answered.

“Sunday?” Louis blurt out, “This coming Sunday?”

“Yes, I can acquire the license.”

“Oh, well. You and my mother have thought of everything,” Louis said.

It wasn’t unkind, his commentary, but it did leave another sour taste in Harry’s mouth. He winced. “Actually, your mother was not aware of this part of the plan.”

Louis smirked at him. “When were you going to inform her of this adaptation?”

Harry nibbled on his bottom lip, something he did often when he was nervous, “After I discussed it with you. It seemed much talk was happening about you rather than with you, and I wanted you to have a say in your life. Because it’s yours.”

Louis’ gaze softened a touch, “Thank you, S- Harry. That was very kind of you. But... I’ll not tell her. You’ve done this to yourself.” He ended on a scoff.

Harry made noises of protest but in reality he was ecstatic that Louis was beginning to feel comfortable enough with Harry that he could tease him and let some of the formality drop a bit from his tone.

“Fair,” Harry added.

“If that’s all, Harry, I need to get back out to the stables. I have much to catch up on.” With that he picked up his hat and gloves and turned towards the door. “Oh, that reminds me. Would I be able to keep my job?”

Harry was startled, “Oh, well…”

“At least in duty only. I know the spouse of a viscount isn’t normally a stable master with a salary-”

“Louis, no. I never intended for you to stop working with the horses. I know you love it.”

The grin that Harry received was wide and blinding, the skin crinkled by Louis’ eyes and he looked radiant. “Wonderful,” he said, the corners of his mouth not able to drop even to reply to Harry. He turned once again to leave, shutting the door behind him.

Harry leaned back in his chair with a huff. That had certainly gone better than expected.

Harry retired to his study to work on his correspondence, he was certainly going to need some time to draft a letter to his mother explaining his newly engaged, and most likely married, status by the time she received it.

It wasn’t until he was halfway through the letter that he realized that Louis had never enquired as to the money he would receive aside from the awkward question of terminating his salary. He truly had meant that he wanted to talk about the logistical arrangement of their betrothal.

Something unclenched in his heart, and his body lightened. Maybe Louis wasn’t just after the financial stability that Harry could provide afterall.

❉ ❉ ❉

**Third Sunday in Advent**

The ceremony was over in the blink of an eye, and soon he was Lord Louis William Tomlinson-Styles. Harry had loved the idea of a combined last name, citing that they had no specific family name or history attached to the viscountcy, so they may as well make their own.

Louis was quickly learning that his employer - husband - had a childish side that was incredibly endearing.

He and Harry climbed into the waiting carriage to take them back to the estate where the family would partake in the wedding breakfast. Normally Lottie and Tommy would ride with them, but they had stayed behind to ride with his mother and the rest of the children, which Lottie had reminded him of with a rather exaggerated wink.

Louis had rolled his eyes at her and shooed her away. When Doris protested, wanting to stay with Harry, Louis’ mother had held her hand and explained that Harry and Louis needed some privacy. Again with a wink. His family was about as subtle as an ox.

When Harry had invited Louis and his mother round for tea on Wednesday afternoon to break the news of their engagement, his mother had been shocked. And Louis had not believed a single bit of her performance. She would fare horribly as an actress.

“Well! Harry, when I spoke to you about this matter I _certainly_ never expected such an outcome.” She went on to explain that they were happy to have him in the family, and see Louis so well settled. Louis had barely managed to stifle his laughter, but poor Harry looked on wide eyed as though he was suspicious of her motives, but wasn’t quite sure what to do about it.

Selfishly, Louis was happy about the marriage. He hadn’t let himself get carried away with his attraction to Harry before because he believed Harry to be above his station, but if Harry was willing to overlook the differences in their births and offer marriage, there may be a chance for Louis yet.

Harry believed that this was something he was doing out of the goodness of his heart so that Louis’ family would be stable and well cared for, and he had never mentioned any form of affection, but there was always the possibility that Harry could grow to love him.

Louis never thought of himself as someone to sit idly by and admire from afar, and this seemed to be his only chance to get close to Harry that wasn’t wildly inappropriate. Surely one day soon Harry would have had to marry someone anyway. He was a viscount, and titled, as much as he loved to ignore that. There were certain responsibilities that came with the title, and producing an heir was one of them.

While money to take care of Louis’ family was wonderful and a definite advantage to the marriage, the thought of watching Harry fall in love with someone else if he did not marry Louis had been unbearable.

When they arrived back at the manor, they retired upstairs so that Harry could show him where he would be living.

“I had your things brought downstairs and they should be ready,” Harry counted the doors down the hallway Louis had never seen before. As a combination stable master and gamekeeper he was given incredibly comfortable quarters on the servants’ hall, but he wasn’t a household servant, so he had never had reason to visit the side of the house with the main bedrooms. “Here we are,” Harry pushed open the third door to reveal a lovely room with a large bed in the middle, done up with a stunning light blue coverlet and curtains drawn open, gathered around each post under the canopy.

Louis didn’t see any signs of life in the room aside from his own belongings. “This is my- Do you sleep here as well?”

Harry’s cheeks turned a deep scarlet color. “Oh. Well, no. I sleep next door in the master bedroom,” he held his hand out to indicate a door in the back corner of the room which Louis presumed was an adjoining door. “I, erm. I didn’t want to presume, or force you to stay with me.”

“Oh. Alright, then.” Louis was disappointed. He had hoped that the shared intimacy would help in his quest to get to know Harry and have Harry get to know him.

“You have your own closet here, and Niall can help you too, unless you want to hire your own valet. Which we can absolutely take care of, if you prefer,” Harry was blabbering away.

“Harry,” Louis reached a hand out, placing it on Harry’s shoulder to stop him from running out of breath. He could immediately feel the heat of Harry’s body under the soft wool of his navy jacket. Harry’s muscles shifted for a moment before he stilled. “Thank you. It’s wonderful.” He lifted his hand off quickly before he started doing something excessive like rubbing circles into Harry’s skin to help ease his tension.

Harry rolled his lips together before letting them go and wetting his bottom lip with his tongue and catching it with his teeth.

Louis nodded to the basin of water on the dressing table. “I think I’ll just freshen up before we go back down for luncheon.”

“Yes of course, I’ll send Niall in momentarily.”

“I’m not sure I would know what to do with him if you did,” Louis laughed.

Harry smiled at him, “I understand, but he’s quite excited, so maybe just humor him?”

Harry made his way to the adjoining door he had pointed out earlier, “This is the first time I’ve used this door,” he said. “If you ever need anything, please. Just come through, I’m happy to help.”

“Thank you, again, Harry.”

When Harry was safely ensconced in his own bedroom, Louis sat down on the bed and looked around the room. It was cozy and warm, a small fire dancing in the hearth. The decorations were tasteful, and more modest than Louis would have expected from an old fashioned manor such as this one.

Louis knew that Harry’s mother had helped him get the house together when he had first arrived, this must have been her handiwork.

He had just managed to remove his jacket and overshirt and dip his hands into the basin of warm water before Niall knocked on the door of the room.

“Sir,” Niall said.

“Come off it, Niall,” Louis replied as the grin began to bloom on Niall’s face. Louis splashed some water on his face, careful to avoid getting any on his nicest breeches.

Wordlessly, Niall moved forward to grab the towel and wipe Louis’ hands down for him, still smirking.

“How are you today, Lou?”

“Alright. My morning has been uneventful,” he replied, matching Niall’s falsely casual tone.

Niall grew more serious, “It’s expected to be scared, but it’s Harry. You could search the world and not find a nicer man. He does have his moments of cheekiness, though, so beware of those.”

“I’m beginning to notice. Mostly he just seems nervous.”

“That’s because he’s madly in love with you,” Niall replied.

“He’s what?” Louis’ heart began to pound. Harry? In love with him?

“In love with you, keep up.”

Louis was still reeling. “How- Did he tell you that?”

“Not in so many words. If anything he used many more words than that. Why do you think he dropped everything to marry you?” Niall raised his eyebrows, giving Louis a knowing look. “Do you need any further help getting dressed, Sir?” He asked sardonically.

Louis could not answer, so Niall left the room. Harry was in love with him. After all this time, after Louis had been so distant in the beginning. Louis now had a much greater chance of transforming this marriage of convenience into something real.

 

During the wedding breakfast, with his whole family gathered around the table and Harry sitting to his right, Louis basked in the warmth blooming in his chest. Where in the past he had maintained some distance, he refused to shy away from the little drops of affection that Harry would show. Small smiles, furtive glances. Louis could see them now for what they were.

Louis could only hope that when they retired for the day, he would be able to have a conversation with Harry about his developing feelings. He had an idea of how to go about it, had a plan; they could court each other. They were already married, but that only meant that they had all the time in the world to truly get to know each other.

Once his family left after the meal, it would just be the two of them. Because his family worked in the house they would be under foot a bit, but now he and Harry could be alone in private spaces without raising eyebrows. And he could threaten his sisters in order to convince them to leave him alone with Harry.

The pudding was served and they were finishing up their meal, all pleasantly full, when there was a clamouring sound from the large, ancient, gate at the end of the drive. Hoof beats.

“There’s a carriage approaching,” Louis said thoughtfully, and turned to Harry. His husband. His breath caught in his chest before he could remember the question that had been sitting on the tip of his tongue. “Were you expecting someone?”

Harry got up out of his chair to go to the window. “The carriage is quite large. I certainly wasn’t expecting anyone who would arrive in something such as that.” He turned back to the window, and Louis admired the long line of his back and the way his breeches were tight on his thighs.

Louis coughed to distract himself and reached a finger up to hook in his cravat that was already a mess anyway because he hadn’t let Niall help him with it earlier.

Suddenly, Harry bolted upright and flew across the room towards the archway that led to the front of the house. “It’s my family! I was not expecting them before Christmas Day,” he called over his shoulder.

Harry’s family. They were here. Louis’ heartbeat began to quicken. He knew horses. He knew everything there was to know about horses, and carriages, and exactly how long it took to travel a given distance.

It was almost a two day journey between Holmes Chapel and Merston, which meant that Harry’s family would have most likely left on Friday. He and Harry were betrothed on Wednesday afternoon, which meant the post would have had to travel like the wind in order to get to them by Friday if Harry had written that day. Louis did not know if he had written immediately or waited, but there was only one possible conclusion.

They did not know Harry was married.

The legs of Louis’ chair caught on the carpet and he stumbled a bit in his haste. Then, he followed Harry in flying through the dining room, much to the confusion of his siblings and parents.

“Harry! Wait!” He called out. Harry had the door open despite the chill of the December air, and Louis could see that the carriage was just coming to the top of the loop at the end of the drive. Harry turned to look at him. “There’s no way the post reached them on time. They won’t know about the wedding.”

Harry gaped at him for a moment, and Louis watched as his own thought process was reflected back on Harry’s face. He was so expressive and beautiful.

Just as Harry came to the same realization about the timing, a blush crept across the tops of his cheekbones and he sheepishly met Louis’ gaze. “They may not know specifically that we’re married, but… They also may not be very surprised. My sister especially.”

Harry turned an even more delightful shade of scarlet, and Louis could feel the corners of his own mouth begin to turn up. They stood there in the foyer, frozen, staring at each other, the moment suspended between them.

Louis took a deep breath in to inform Harry of his plan about courting when Tommy pushed past them to meet the carriage and assist with settling the visiting horses.

The moment was broken, and Harry turned to the open door just as one of the footmen was helping his mother down from the very impressive carriage.

“Harry! Darling,” Lady Anne cried, rushing to get to her son, practically dragging the footman behind her by the hand in her haste.

“Hello, mother,” Harry called in return, his grin so wide Louis was sure the snow on the shrubs that surrounded the front steps would melt from the excess warmth.

“Happy Christmas,” Lady Anne replied as she ascended the steps. Her husband and daughter followed, both greeting Harry warmly as well.

Lady Anne’s eyes landed on him at his place on the top step and she smiled. “Louis darling, how lovely to see you as well.”

After he greeted her he melted towards the wall, not sure what his place was now that he was very distinctly her son-in-law.

The commotion had drawn Louis’ whole family out of the dining room and into the foyer, and his own mother was visibly delighted to see Lady Anne. They hugged like old friends as opposed to the acquaintances they were, and they were chattering back and forth when Lady Anne caught on to the oddity of the scene in front of her.

“How lovely this Sunday gathering is, it looks like a celebration.”

Liam had been doing his best to direct traffic with fifteen extra people in his foyer, but with her question, all movement stopped.

“Well of course, Anne,” his mother answered quickly. “It’s a wedding celebration.”

“A wedding?” Lady Anne’s eyes widened. “Whoever for?”

Louis had never understood the meaning of the phrase “so quiet one could hear a pin drop” until that very moment.

“Mum,” Harry cleared his throat, “Louis and I were married this morning after the Sunday service.”

At the mention of his own name Louis felt the warmth flood his cheeks. Lady Anne’s eyes snapped to Louis, confusion clouding her features. Behind her, Gemma guffawed loudly and began to laugh, holding her hand out to catch herself on the wall. Lottie, standing next to her, began to giggle as well.

“You’re married?” Lady Anne rounded on Harry and he shrunk down a bit, though his mother’s stature was smaller than his own.

“Yes?” He replied, unsure of her further reaction.

“And you didn’t think to inform me of this decision?”

“It was all done rather quickly,” Louis felt himself reply before he was even aware of his own voice.

Lady Anne’s eyes flashed even brighter at that before weakly announcing that it might be best if they took their conversation into the parlor out of the cold.

Lottie and Liam both sprung into action to gather whatever was needed for tea as Johannah led Lady Anne, Gemma, Sir Twist, and Harry and Louis into the formal parlor.

Niall had anticipated their change of venue during the chaos of Harry’s family’s arrival and was waiting for them in the parlor. He helped them all divest themselves of their heavy coats, and other outerwear. Louis cast a glance out the window at the stables, but could see nothing amiss, which put him at ease. Tommy had it covered.

Lady Anne greeted Niall warmly as well, and there were a few whispered words between them as everyone settled into various seats around the roaring fire.

“Lady Anne, I took the liberty of having your things brought to the guest wing,” Niall announced to the room.

“Yes, thank you, Niall. I suppose the room that Gemma used last time will have been occupied in the meantime.” Her tone was leading, questioning, and judgmental in the way that only a mother could be.

Harry and Louis who occupied the same settee but kept some distance between their bodies due to the overwhelming awkwardness they were about to face, both blushed and looked at each other.

“I should explain,” Harry began in such a way as to indicate that an explanation was the last thing he wanted to provide.

Thankfully, Louis’ mother stepped in for him. “No, darling, that’s alright.” She reached over and patted Harry’s thigh before turning to Lady Anne. “Anne, Louis was recently very ill, and I became overly worried with his security in life, so I went to Harry seeking his help and connections between here and Cheshire to see if he knew anyone that would be a good match for my Louis.”

Lady Anne looked upon Louis with sympathy at the mention of his illness. “I trust you are feeling better?”

He nodded as politely as he could, “Yes, my lady.”

Johannah pressed on, “Harry then graciously offered himself as an option for a marriage of convenience. Louis can stay here to run the stables as he loves, and I will be at ease for he will be close to home.”

No one said anything for a moment before Gemma scoffed and said, “Oh yes, Harry. How very _gracious_ and _convenient_ of you,” her tone dripping with sarcasm.

Lottie who had come into the room with the tea tray snickered before composing herself and setting it down on the table. She righted herself and sat down next to Gemma, the two sisters having become friends as fast as their mothers when Harry’s family first came to Merston. Lottie raised her hand up to hide a cough that sounded suspiciously like another giggle.

Lady Anne scrutinized them carefully, her gaze sliding back and forth between them on the settee. Louis had the strongest urge to reach out and grab Harry’s hand in solidarity, but despite their moment in the foyer, there was no real level of familiarity between them yet so he kept his hand to himself and tried not to shrink under her judgement.

She must have decided something though, because she clapped her hands together and stood up out of her chair.

“Well, then. Louis, darling, welcome to the family.” She smiled at him warmly again before turning to Niall and Liam indicating that she wanted to go upstairs to see their new accomodations and freshen up before the evening meal.

Just as quickly as it had filled, the formal parlor emptied and it was just Louis and Harry standing in the middle of the rug staring at each other again. With all of the excitement, there had been no time to speak to one another.

“Harry! Where did you go?” Lady Anne’s voice carried down the hall in through the open doorway.

Harry looked at Louis ruefully; “I should help her get settled.”

“Of course,” Louis whispered.

Harry stared at him for another moment before turning on his heel and exiting the room.

They would have a chance to speak further later, and Louis could explain the benefits of the courting plan. Surely.

❉ ❉ ❉

**Fourth Sunday in Advent**

Harry loved his family. His mother, despite her elevated place in society, had always taught him that every human being deserved to be treated with the same kindness and courtesy. His sister was bright, and her mind was incredibly sharp. He was certain she could take over ruling the country and all of its ever growing sovereignties without breaking a sweat if she so desired. His stepfather was equally kind and jovial.

He wanted them gone.

Biting back his frustration in listening to his mother plan the menu for Christmas dinner, his gaze trailed out the window to the stables. Louis was out there somewhere. Begging off helping with the Christmas planning by claiming he needed to be out with the horses.

As though his thoughts had conjured him, Louis exited the open end of the stables, cheeks flushed from the cold, his breath crystallizing on the air in front of him.

He looked beautiful like that. A spot of life on the icy gray and white background of the estate. He looked beautiful everywhere.

Harry thought about the very first time he had ever seen Louis, the summer sun beating down on him where he sat atop his saddle as he rode down the drive. His freckles had been fully out on display when he had dismounted and walked over to Harry to greet him.

Harry had been dumbstruck by the cut of his cheekbones and his sharp little smile that broke across his face when Harry didn’t answer him immediately. He must have known even then what kind of effect he had on Harry.

But as soon as Harry had introduced himself as the new viscount, the shutters fell on Louis’ friendly manner. From then until the days between his sickness and their wedding Louis had been strictly professional.

Now it was as though the original Louis from their first meeting was back. He was relaxed, happy, radiant. And Harry had barely managed to speak to him over the course of the week.

Their families were everywhere. Harry prided himself on being a welcoming person, but they had absolutely no privacy in the manor at the moment.

Louis’ family had the advantage of sneaking around through the servants stairs, and offering to serve them tea every five minutes, while Harry’s family had the advantage of needing his attention to plan their Christmas Eve fête.

His mother had somehow gotten it in her head that they should have a party on Christmas Eve to celebrate their marriage. She had sent out invitations immediately following their arrival the Sunday before to the neighboring gentry, even sending some as far as back home in Cheshire. Christmas Eve wasn’t until Friday evening, so they still had time to arrive if they hurried, unfortunately.

There was certainly room in the manor, and Harry loved that all of the spare guest rooms would be filled if everyone accepted. Which they would, Harry had no doubt. He was also thankful that his and Louis’ apartments would be far away from all of the guests as well.

He might propose that they have tea in the small parlor off of Louis’ bedroom for even just one moment of peace between them.

“Harry are you even listening? This is your home now, you need to be making all of these decisions.” His mother’s voice was tinged with the tiniest bit of impatience. She followed his eye line out the window and to the structure beyond. “Ah. Other things have your attention, I see.” The look in her eye was more playful than he had ever seen before.

“I’m sorry my letter didn’t reach you in time to warn you,” he replied. He had thought it many times over the past week, but hadn’t managed to work up the courage to start the conversation.

“That’s alright, my dear. It’s not often I’m surprised anymore,” she winked at him.

“You’re not disappointed?” Harry could never imagine a world in which his mother would judge someone for their inferior birth, but it was definitely a concern. If they were in London, he and Louis never would have been able to marry so quickly and so unevenly matched without causing the scandal of the century. Even closer in Manchester society there would have been a scandal. Harry was glad he preferred the more private small town life.

“Of course not. All I have ever wanted was to see you happy. I’m glad you’ve married for love I would settle for nothing less for you.” His mother turned back to the list she was writing out.

Harry blushed. “Oh, well. We’re not-- He’s not-- It was for convenience.”

His mother raised her eyebrow at him again, “Has anyone informed either one of you that it was just supposed to be ‘convenience?’”

Thankfully Harry was saved from answering by the man in question. Louis entered the parlor looking just as windblown and beautiful up close as he had from afar.

Neither one of them said anything for a moment, and it was his mother that broke the silence. “Louis you look positively frozen, why don’t the two of you take tea in the small parlor upstairs.”

Harry studied her for a moment, wondering if she could truly read his thoughts as mothers so often threatened. “Don’t you need me here to make the decisions for Christmas?”

“Leave everything to me, darling.” She patted his cheek and turned back to the desk again. He had been very clearly dismissed.

“Well, then. Tea in the upstairs parlor?” He asked Louis.

Louis rubbed his hands together in front of his chest, “That would be lovely. Is there already a fire going up there?”

“Should be.” Harry called for Liam and informed him of the change.

Liam’s eyes crinkled at the corner and he bounced in place, “Certainly, my lord.”

Louis climbed the main staircase and Harry paced himself to stay a few steps behind him out of politeness. Certainly not so that he could admire the way Louis’ well-worn riding breeches stretched and pulled over the strong muscles of his legs.

He felt overly aware of his own body and the way his heart was pounding rapidly. This was the first time they would be well and truly alone with no one to bother them since the beginning of their marriage. All he had to do was make it through taking tea without inappropriately expressing his feelings like he had the day of the wedding when his family arrived. Despite what everyone, and his mother, had said, there was no indication that Louis thought of their marriage as anything more than convenient.

Liam brought their tea in before making a show of closing the door behind him. Silence reigned for a moment as Harry stared into the fire. He was on the settee and Louis was in the extremely comfortable wing back chair. Harry hoped Louis had been able to use this room before now, it was really quite lovely.

“Harry,” Louis broke the silence. “I’d like to talk to you about something.”

“Anything, Louis.” When Harry looked at him, Louis looked less than confident, and even a little nervous.

“I know that this marriage was convenient for me more than it was for you.” Harry made to interrupt him and deny what they both knew was true, but Louis stopped him. “No, it’s alright. What I’m trying to say is; if there is a chance that this marriage might be more than that. If there is a chance you may have, well what you might call ‘feelings’ for me, I would welcome the chance to possibly explore those. With you.”

Harry stared at him and could feel his mouth drying out where it was hanging open.

Louis lifted a cup and saucer in a searching gesture. “Tea?”

When Harry didn’t answer, Louis poured some anyway and lifted it again, but Harry didn’t take it.

“Harry, I’m a little worried that you haven’t said anything.”

“Do you feel that way, about me?” Harry croaked out.

Louis got up out of his chair and sat down next to Harry on the settee, tentatively reaching his hands across his lap to take Harry’s where they were resting on his own knees. As soon as Harry felt the rougher callouses of Louis’ hands, his whole body came to life. The hair on the back of his neck stood up, and sparks danced along his spine.

“I do, and I very much think we went about this a bit backwards, but I thought we might try courting each other. If you’re amenable to that.”

“Amenable?” Harry scoffed. Louis’ face fell and he moved to take his hand back from Harry, but Harry held fast. “I am more than amenable. I think that’s lovely,” he replied quietly.

Louis bit his lip and met Harry’s eyes as he shifted closer to him on the settee. His gaze dipped down to Harry’s lips and then back up, asking a silent question. Harry leaned in as well, and lifted his hand up to cup Louis’ cheek, drawing Louis in closer.

Their mouths met, and the sparks that Harry had felt when they held hands flamed to life. Louis’ lips were soft and gentle against his own. Tentative. Searching. Harry could feel the tickle of Louis’ slight beard and the scratch of his stubble underneath the palm of his hand where he was touching Louis’ skin.

The kiss delved deeper as Harry dragged his thumb across the top of Louis’ cheekbone. He felt Louis’ lips parting under his, and he just barely moaned when Louis’ tongue met the seam of his mouth.

Louis drew back first, but they were both panting. “That might have been a bit inappropriate for a drawing room in the middle of the day.”

Harry could feel Louis’ breath on his cheek as he rolled his lips together where he could still taste Louis. “Yes, but we’re married,” he replied, eager to get back to what they were doing.

“We’re courting,” Louis corrected.

“And married.”

Louis couldn’t hide his smile. “Stop teasing, Harry, I’m trying to have some restraint.”

Harry shook his head and leaned down to kiss Louis once again. This time it was a much less heated peck, because he fully intended to continue, but someone knocked soundly on the door of the parlor.

“What is it?” Harry bit out, upset that his privacy was taken away from him so soon, and right as it was beginning to get interesting. He hated to be impolite, but he couldn’t help it.

Niall entered the room just as Harry and Louis began to separate themselves where they were sitting. “Apologies, my lords, but I was wondering if you would need help getting dressed for supper.”

That was not a good enough reason to interrupt them, and Harry grumbled as much under his breath. Louis reached over and pinched his thigh, hopefully out of view behind the armchair from Niall’s vantage point in the doorway.

“Thank you, Niall. Harry will meet you in his room momentarily.”

Niall gave them a small bow and exited the room, smirking all the way. Harry should have made him walk home from church in the cold this morning.

“You wouldn’t. You’re entirely too nice to the people who are supposed to be your servants.” Louis replied to the statement Harry was sure he had not made aloud.

He sighed, “I know, but they’re practically my family.”

Louis gave him a long look. “They are your family in truth now. Some of them anyway.”

Harry’s annoyance with Niall lifted. “They are, aren’t they?”

Louis held Harry’s hand in one of his own and kissed his knuckles. If he had been standing, the gesture would have made Harry weak in the knees. “Time to get dressed, love.”

Louis stood up, and dragged Harry with him, never letting go of his hand.

Passing through the adjoining room of the parlor into Louis’ room, and then into his own beyond, still felt too intimate for their partnership, so Harry let himself be led out into the hall and to the door of his own room.

They were standing so close that Louis had to tilt his head up slightly to talk to Harry, and Harry felt so warm and gooey inside, he was sure that if he was held too close to the fire he would melt away and drip on the floor like candle wax.

“Shall I see you for supper?” Louis asked him with a grin.

“Of course,” Harry nodded before Louis surged up and kissed him again furtively in case any of his younger sisters were lurking.

Louis turned to go back to his own door and gave Harry a wink before he pushed open the heavy mahogany.

 

That night at dinner, Louis held his elbow out for Harry to take, and they went into dinner together as a proper couple. There had of course been formal suppers over the last week, but tonight, the fourth and final Sunday in advent, was special. While before there was polite distance between them, now Harry had no qualms about following Louis to their seats at the head of the table.

His mother explained to everyone who would be arriving for Christmas and when to the best of her ability. They would all attend church before returning for Christmas dinner where they would have a celebration with all of the guests where they would cut the Yule Log and play other parlor games.

With how much happier he had become, even in a few short days, Harry could barely contain his excitement for the festive season. It must have shown on his face for at some point Louis reached over and joined their hands together under the table.

❉ ❉ ❉

 **Christmas Eve** , _Five days later_

Louis dipped the ladle into the sweetened mulled wine. He drained out the cloves and cinnamon before pouring some of the ruby liquid into his goblet. His birthday fell on Christmas Eve, and this year he could not be happier for it.

Harry had been drinking the wine as well, and he looked positively radiant under the warm glow of the candlelight. His eyes shone bright, reflecting some of the same joy that Louis felt. The quartet was in the corner of the emptied out parlor, playing as people danced and laughed and sang along.

Louis’ youngest siblings had joined hands with some of the other children and were dancing  around in circles until they were dizzy collapsing on the rug in front of the fire. He leaned against the wide moulding of the entryway and watched them with delight.

“This Yuletide season has been wonderful already and it has barely started.” Harry’s voice was deep and slow like molasses, aided by the wine.

“Agreed,” Louis nodded. He could feel the heat from Harry’s body as he moved in closer to Louis. Instead of saying anything else, Harry simply studied him for a moment. Where a few weeks ago Louis might have been uncomfortable under that kind of scrutiny, now he welcomed it.

“Louis, for your birthday, I would love if you--”

“Lou! Harry! You’re under the mistletoe,” the normally reserved Felicite called out to them from across the room.

“Kiss!” Gemma cheered. Their guests all joined their family in taking up their chant, demanding of them a Christmas kiss.

Harry reached up to cup Louis’ face the way he always did when they kissed. As they had settled into their courtship, Louis had learned that he was the more naturally possessive of the two of them. It had never been a trait he had recognized in himself before, but he had never felt about someone else the way he felt about Harry. It was only when they kissed that Harry’s hand against his skin belied the same level of possessiveness in him. Louis loved it, and he loved Harry.

Over the past few days since he and Harry had come into their courtship arrangement, Louis had fallen so quickly in love that he had to have been at least partially there already.

He was in love with Harry, who was by and large a terrible viscount. He was too kind and familiar with his servants, he had absolutely no respect for his own social rank. He just wanted to be surrounded by the people that he loved and he cared more about that than all the money in the world. Louis sincerely hoped that he ranked near the top amongst those people, and even though they had not said the words to each other, he could tell how Harry felt about him.

They pulled away from their kiss and Lady Anne, who now insisted Louis call her by her given name, clinked a spoon against the crystal of her goblet.

She made a toast to Louis’ birthday, and she toasted to his and Harry’s new marriage and life together.

Louis could feel, though, that Harry’s attention was not fully on the proceedings. Harry had been rubbing circles into the muscles of Louis’ back, but his hand had drifted lower and lower as Anne’s speech went on.

They had yet to be intimate with each other. Their now quite regular private tea times in their parlor were growing more and more heated as the days wore on, but their marriage had never been fully consummated, and Louis was beginning to feel that loss very acutely.

When Liam, Niall, Tommy, and a handful of other men were sent out into the snowy night to cut the Yule Log, Harry leaned down to whisper in Louis’ ear; “I want you to stay with me tonight.”

Louis did his best to maintain his composure for the sake of the people around them while his pulse pounded in his ears, “Of course,” he murmured back.

Harry reached down to take Louis’ empty hand and gave it a sound squeeze. Soon, Louis felt him tugging at the appendage.

“Now?” He asked Harry while looking around at the guests who were all distracted by the lighting of the log in the hearth.

“Now.” Harry’s voice was dark and demanding, and it sent a delicious thrill through Louis. Harry tugged at his hand again, leading him towards the grand staircase, but Louis shook his head and led him down the hall. “This is not the way to our bedroom.”

Louis had to take a moment to compose himself again when Harry said “our bedroom” as though he already considered it to be theirs together. Visions of waking up next to Harry flashed through his mind.

“Louis?” Harry prompted, pulling Louis back to the present. He opened the door to the library and shoved Harry through before Harry caught on and began to rush with him across the main part of the room towards the back corner. Harry let out a little noise of delight and it was so adorable that Louis couldn’t bear to go without kissing him for another moment.

He pushed Harry up against the stained wood of the door that led to the servants’ stairs. The library was right under Harry’s room, and would lead them straight up the back of the house. When Louis had lived in the servant’s quarters it was yet another storey up to the hallway where his bedroom was.

Louis brought their mouths together in a rough, hurried kiss. Biting a bit at Harry’s lips until they were stained a deep cherry red.

“I remember that day I saw you in your chair. Buttons undone. Breeches but no boots. Just those ridiculous slippers instead.” He punctuated each phrase with kisses. “I tried so hard to avoid you as much as possible.”

Harry pulled back a bit, “Why?” He looked confused, but not hurt.

“Because I knew I could love you if I gave myself the chance. And you were well above my station.”

Harry combed his fingers through the sides of Louis’ hair above his ear. “But, Lou, I don’t care about that.”

“I know, but I was still worried. Now look where I am.”

“I love you,” Harry replied gruffly.

Louis lifted himself up a bit, lining their bodies up fully, and kissed him again. He could feel where Harry was hard behind the placket of his breeches. Impatience growing, Louis reached down to turn the door handle and it gave way underneath the weight of their bodies.

He and Harry rushed up the backstairs, thankfully without running into any wandering members of his family. They reached the door to Harry’s dressing room and stumbled in. Their hands flew as cravats were untied and buttons were undone, or ripped. Louis was not looking forward to explaining those to Lottie when she was given the mending.

Finally Harry was standing in front of Louis clad only in his breeches and boots. Louis wasn’t sure he had ever seen a more beautiful sight and he paused in the removal of his own shirt to stare at him.

“Will you help me with my boots, Lou?”

They struggled their way through removing both pairs of their Hessian boots, and by the end of it they were doubled over with laughter, and Harry was declaring that Niall needed a raise in wages. Louis’ boots were worn and gave way easily, but he did much more walking and riding than Harry did, so his were much stiffer.

Louis brought their chests together as he reached down to undo the placket of Harry’s breeches to remove them. Laughter died on their lips as they kissed again, moving towards the large bed in the middle of the room.

Harry pulled himself away to reach into his nightstand to retrieve a small vial of oil as Louis made his way around the bed undoing the heavy velvet curtains. Once they were down, he held one side open for Harry to climb through onto the mattress and he followed.

When the fabric fell into place behind him, the world went away. The drapery trapped sound both in and out, and he and Harry could forget that their guests were downstairs, and forget the constant intrusions on their privacy from having their family around. The house could fall down around them, but as long as the curtains on the bed remained closed, it was just the two of them. Together.

Louis drew his hands down the satin skin of Harry’s chest and he could feel Harry’s muscles twitch. “I’m sorry my hands are so rough.”

“No,” Harry whispered. “I like them. I like the way they feel.”

Louis drew Harry close to him again, having gone too long without contact. This time, though, he did not stop his kisses at Harry’s lips or cheeks. He trailed them down his neck, over his torso, and around the soft skin of his hips.

“You are so beautiful,” Louis felt his voice crack with emotion, but he was too aroused to feel embarrassed.

They moved together, then. Harry possessed a grace in their curtained haven that Louis had never noticed in him before. They did their best to understand each other’s bodies and learn as they went. Never letting their hands leave each others’ skin.

Louis prepared Harry’s body to take him, doing his best to bring Harry to the very brink of pleasure. When he finally entered Harry, Louis realized that he was the one who was unprepared for the emotional onslaught of being so connected to him. Their mouths met as their pace grew more frantic and they chased their peak together.

Louis was the first one to break as he buried his face in Harry’s neck, breathing him in, surrounding his senses with Harry.

When he regained control of himself, he reached down between their bodies and did his best to push Harry over the edge. Harry spilled onto his torso, whimpering Louis’ name, with his head thrown back and the column of his throat taut with pleasure.

Harry eventually opened his eyes and Louis could see tears forming at the corners. He leaned his head down to press a kiss to the very edge oh Harry’s swollen lips. “I love you,” he murmured, pressing his endearments into the skin there.

Harry’s legs relaxed and Louis disconnected their bodies, but was quick to pull Harry in close after they had rearranged the blankets so that they were under them instead of on top of them.

Louis’ nose was pressed into the silky curls at the back of Harry’s neck and he could feel himself drifting off when Harry spoke. Louis felt the rumble in Harry’s chest before he heard the words.

“I hate to say this, but I’m glad you fell ill.” Louis’ nipped the back of his shoulder in retaliation. “I’m serious. I’m not sure I would have worked up the courage to approach you had your mother not come to me.”

“So you decided marriage was the easiest way?”

Harry’s shoulders shook with his laughter, upsetting Louis’ tumble into unconsciousness again. His position was disturbed even further when Harry flipped over completely so that they were facing each other.

“Yes. It seems to have worked in my favor.”

Louis reached up and tucked a curl behind Harry’s ear. “Mine too, love. Happy Christmas.”

“Happy _Birthday_ ,” Harry replied.

When he finally drifted off to sleep, Louis could not have possibly been filled with more joy and wonder.


End file.
